


Louder Than Love

by Lobotomite



Series: Louder Than Love [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, this is set somewhere around Sep 23-24th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-29
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-06 16:24:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12214476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobotomite/pseuds/Lobotomite
Summary: Aaron thought him and Ross had been a one time thing - apparently not.





	Louder Than Love

Okay, he's in a bad mood. He thinks he's entitled to not be a ray of sunshine, considering. And Ross has been day drinking and moping in the bar all goddamn week, so he has _zero_ room to talk.

Of course, that's never stopped him before, so Aaron shouldn't have been surprised when he drops onto a stool and Ross immediately sneers at him over the bar.

"Hot doctor turn tail, then?"

"Get fucked, Ross," he says shortly, tapping impatiently on the wood as he waits for Charity to deign to serve him.

"Touch-y," Ross singsongs, twisting on his seat so that he's facing Aaron, legs spread and leaning with one arm on the bar next to him. "You can be honest, Aaron." He leans forward, supporting himself on his thigh instead of the bar, and lowers his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper. "You got into his trousers and he just couldn't compare, could he?"

Ross is definitely not talking about Robert, and Aaron can't help the way his head snaps incredulously around, face burning as Ross leans back again and smirks at him, head tilted arrogantly up. He knows they hadn't specifically agreed not to mention their little indiscretion, but Aaron had been perfectly happy with settling back into their usual mode of completely ignoring each other.

" _Get fucked_ ," he repeats, flustered, and his face heats up even more when Ross just eyes him up and takes a sip of his beer. He doesn't know where this is coming from; Ross might have been sulking in the bar all day (all week, really), but Aaron's sure he's not drunk. He turns away and steadfastly glowers at the side of Charity's head, trying to psychically force her to come over and get around to serving him. Rather than do her job, she just gives him a sidelong glance and smirks, continuing to chat (more like gossip, he thinks bitterly) over the bar with Vanessa.

"You know," Ross drawls, twisting his glass in his hands, "my place is empty."

_That_ gets his attention, head snapping around again to gape at Ross, who meets his eyes with a small smirk on his face.

"You what?" He splutters, angry because he knows he's just getting redder and redder but is unable to stop it.

Ross just pushes his beer away and stands up, rolling his shoulders.

"I feel like scratching an itch," he says easily, ambling over so that he's stood just shy of too close. "If you don't want to help, I'll find someone else. If you do..." He shrugs. "You've got the next few minutes to head over to mine." He rakes his gaze over Aaron one last time before walking past and heading for the door, arm brushing against Aaron's shoulder as he goes, and Aaron swallows, fingers curled into tight fists.

He wasn't lying to Alex – he isn't ready. Not for a relationship, so soon after leaving what was meant to be his future, when he still feels the sting of guilt at considering being with anyone else, however misplaced that guilt is. But what Ross is offering... well. It _has_ been a long fucking time. And he doesn't exactly regret the last time they did this.

He raps his knuckles against the bar top two more times and then shoves himself up, making up his mind, waving away Charity's "Al _right,_ calm down, I was just getting to you!" and following Ross out the door.

He refuses to make eye contact when Ross looks back over his shoulder with a smirk, opting instead to trail behind as they make the short walk to Ross's house in silence, heart rate picking up in anticipation and nerves.

Ross is on him as soon as he's through the door, sparing Aaron the awkwardness of small talk or deciding on when to make a move, and Aaron kisses back immediately, digging his fingers hard into his bicep as Ross hauls him in with one hand in his hair and the other on his waist.

Just like last time, there's no pretense, no coy build up - Ross's teeth dig into his bottom lip within seconds and it doesn't ease up from there. His back hits the door with a thump and Ross presses up close, sliding one leg in between Aaron's and pressing his thigh up against his crotch. Aaron moans and rocks his hips into the pressure, pleasure starting to smoulder heavy and hot, and shoves a hand shamelessly up Ross's shirt to grab at his muscled back.

They kiss until Aaron is breathless, Aaron's shirt getting hitched up, and he sucks in a lungful of air when Ross finally pulls back with a flushed face and red mouth. He slides his hands up Aaron's chest, taking the time to blatantly feel him up on the way, then twists his hands in Aaron's collar and walks backward, pulling Aaron further into the house and then into a hallway.

He lets go once they're through the hall doorway, turning on his heel and leading Aaron down the hall and into what Aaron assumes is Ross's room. He pulls the door closed behind him and follows Ross's lead in belatedly sliding his shoes off, and as soon as he has Ross is reaching for him again, tugging him close by the hem of his shirt. Their mouths only meet for a few seconds while Ross pulls Aaron's shirt up his torso, and then they have to part so they can pull it up over his head and drop it carelessly on the floor.

Aaron wastes no time returning the favour, dragging Ross's shirt up over his head and then pulling him back in, and grinds his hips against Ross's, dick full and hard and aching to be unconfined. Ross quickly obliges his unspoken request, popping the button on Aaron's trousers and tugging them down his thighs. That he was expecting. What he _wasn't_ expecting was for Ross to sink to his knees, taking Aaron's boxers with him, and press a wet kiss to his hip as he wraps his fingers around Aaron's dick.

He sucks in a startled breath, hand shooting out and holding onto Ross's hair, earning himself a short warning look.

"No pulling," he orders, and then he's taking Aaron into his mouth and Aaron chokes on a moan. This goes just as everything before has, fast and focussed, Ross taking him deep with practiced ease. He's not aiming to get Aaron over the edge but he's making Aaron's toes curl and his chest hot, soft noises coming unbidden from his lips as Ross works him over. Aaron is just starting to get into it, heavy heat turning urgent, hips fighting the urge to push himself deeper, when Ross pulls off, stroking Aaron slowly while he digs his fingers into his back pocket.

Aaron doesn't bother hiding the way he's admiring Ross's flushed face and bruised lips, the way his mouth is wet and red and parted as he pulls a foil packet out of his pocket – and then Ross is back on his feet and pressing another heated kiss to Aaron's mouth before sprawling himself out on his bed.

Aaron squeezes himself around the base as he kicks his trousers off, then hovers by the bed while Ross pushes his own down his legs and then onto the floor. Rolling onto his stomach and moving to riffle through the bedside table gives Aaron the opportunity to check him out from the back – an opportunity he takes full advantage of. He doesn't bother looking away when Ross turns back over with a bottle in his hands, meeting his eyes and giving himself a few languid strokes. The way Ross's eyes dip down and go dark gives him the courage to move forward and onto the mattress.

Ross stretches out while he does, arching his back and spreading his legs, and Aaron's heart skips a beat when Ross slides a lube-slick hand between his own thighs.

_Oh_.

He watches greedily as Ross presses into himself, first one and then two with an ease that says this is far from the first time he's done this. Ross seems pleased by the attention, body angled so that Aaron can see everything, but he quickly grows impatient and jerks his head in the direction of the condom he's dropped on the bed.

"Are you going to get yourself ready, or do I need to do every-damn-thing myself?" Ross snarks. Aaron rolls his eyes and makes a point of turning his attention away from Ross while he rolls it on and lubes himself up, smirking at Ross's huff of annoyance. When Aaron turns back to him Ross has relaxed into the bed, one arm behind his head and the other grabbing at Aaron's wrist and pulling him over.

He settles between Ross's legs, Ross pulling him in for a biting kiss while Aaron runs his hand down and presses two fingers into him, making Ross squirm and pull his head back.

"I'm ready, Jesus, get on with it," Ross pants before pulling him in again, so Aaron takes his word for it, pulling a soft grunt with a curl of his fingers then pulling them out and lining himself up.

They both let out a low noise when Aaron finally pushes in, pressing inexorably forward until their hips are flush together and Ross's legs are tight around his waist. He starts moving quickly, not giving Ross a chance to whinge about him taking his time, a few slow, testing thrusts to test the waters before building quickly to the pace everything before now has been going at.

Ross is noisy, moaning and gasping into Aaron's mouth, fingers digging bruises into Aaron's skin as he rocks into Aaron's thrusts. Their kisses devolve into panting into each others mouths, and Aaron gives up, rearing back so that he's on his knees instead of laying over Ross. His hands go to Ross's hips and Ross's reach back to grip the headboard, putting his lean body on shameless display.

Ross is loud and performative, head rolled back on the pillow in a way that highlights the muscles in his neck and shoulders, gasping and moaning and swearing, and he only gets louder when Aaron releases his hip to take him in hand, doing his best to match the strokes of his hands to the rock of his hips. It doesn't take long before the heat in his gut boils over, his hand going back to Ross's hip to pull him in as close as he can while he buries himself inside and comes apart with a drawn out moan.

He lets himself tip forward onto Ross, mouthing at his slick skin as he pushes through the post-orgasm sluggishness to jerk him off, and Ross quickly follows him, a surprisingly quiet gasp all that leaves his mouth as he releases between them.

Aaron pulls out gingerly, drawing a soft hiss from Ross, tying off the condom and letting Ross pull it from his hands and toss it dismissively in the direction of a bin next to the bedside table. Whatever, it's Ross's floor, he can do what he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, stretching his limbs out before relaxing into the comfortable mattress, and Ross acts just like last time, rolling onto him and stretching, face tucked into Aaron's neck. He let's him be for a few minutes, too warm and satiated to bother protesting, but as the afterglow fades the drying cum that Ross has just ended up smearing between them is getting too annoying to ignore, so he shoves Ross off.

"Towel?" He asks, waving a hand at his stomach, and Ross sighs and swings his legs off the bed, pushing himself up and padding out of the room – Aaron really hopes nobody decides to come home early, although if they live with Ross, it's probably nothing they haven't seen before. Aaron locates his clothes while he waits, and he's just checked his phone - _no messages_ \- when Ross strides back into the room and tosses a damp hand towel at him.

Aaron wipes himself off and they get dressed in silence, but when Aaron is smoothing down his shirt Ross speaks up.

"We've got a few cans in the fridge, if you don't feel like dealing with Charity's customer service." Aaron gives him a slightly wary look.

"....What, you want to hang out?"

Ross shrugs.

"Thrashing Pete and Finn on the Xbox is getting boring. It'd be nice to have someone else to beat for a change." Aaron's competitive streak rears it's head (which is definitely the only reason he'd say yes) and he snorts.

"Right, fine, you're on."

Ross is a gracious enough host to grab them both beers instead of making Aaron get his own, and when they settle onto the couch to play some UFC, Aaron feels surprisingly comfortable. It's actually pretty easy, being around Ross – nothing like the ease he feels around Adam or Liv, but a comfort arising from not giving much of a fuck what Ross thinks of him, from knowing that if Ross wanted him to piss off he would just say so.

They spend a while playing, Aaron cursing Ross's poor choice of consoles as the reason he's losing two times out of three ("If you just had a _PlayStation_ ," he growls - "If you were just _better_ ," Ross sneers back) before there's the sound of the door clicking open and Finns voice rings out.

"Can you _believe_ them two haven't sorted it out yet? I swear, Ross, I might as well be talking to a-" Finn clearly sees him, then, because he comes to an abrupt stop and stares at him with his mouth open for a long moment. His mouth eventually snaps shut and he pushes his glasses up his nose, blinking rapidly, clearly at a loss. Aaron refuses to be the first one to acknowledge the situation, so he stares firmly at the TV, hammering at the buttons as he sees – out of the corner of his eye - Finn's mouth open and close a few times in a futile attempt at speech. He finally clears his throat when it's clear he's not going to get anything from either Aaron or his brother, and manages a weak, "Uh, right, hi, Aaron. Didn't, um, didn't expect to see you here... on my couch... with Ross."

His eyes narrow, and he squints suspiciously at first Aaron and then Ross.

"...Right, okay, what's going on? What are you two up to?"

"Xbox," Ross replies blandly, not turning his gaze away from the screen, almost hammering through the last of Aaron's defences before he manages to get his character out of Ross's reach – with a background track of muttered swearing, of course.

"I – I don't mean _right now,_ obviously! I mean what- what little _scheme_ have you got planned this time?" He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head back and forth a few times, holding a hand up. "Actually – you know what, I don't care, alright, just, whatever it is, don't get caught, got it? We don't need any more bother, Ross."

"Like I'd want anyone to know how low I let my standards get," Ross mutters quietly as Finn walks over to the kitchen shaking his head to himself. Aaron takes a great amount of pleasure in the choked back grunt of pain he lets slip when Aaron kicks him hard in the shin.

They keep playing as Finn putters about in the kitchen, kettle boiling and fridge door opening and closing a few times, and both turn him down when he offers tea.

"Right, well... have... fun," Finn says uncomfortably as he hovers at the hall doorway, and then quickly hurries through once they've both grunted their acknowledgements.

It's only a short while later that Aaron drops his controller on the table in disgust, Ross holding his arms up in triumph just like his character is doing on screen, and pushes himself up off the couch.

"I should be getting back," he says, previous unexpected ease waning as he tries to get away without causing offense – not that he's sure why he's even bothered, it's just fucking Ross. "Me and Adam were going to have a pint, he'll probably be wondering where I am."

"Yeah, sure," Ross says. "You just know you're going to keep getting your ass handed to you. Go on, have fun, then, you know where the door is."

Aaron rolls his eyes, making sure to pack as much disdain into his "bye" as he can, and leaves without ceremony, starting off on the walk back to the Woolpack.

That was... unexpected. He hadn't thought he'd have another roll about with Ross, he hadn't thought he'd hang out and play video games afterwards, and he _definitely_ hadn't thought that he'd enjoy himself.

He can't say he's unhappy that it happened, though.


End file.
